


Just Breathe

by missmishka



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, M/M, PWP, Post 2x08 "Raving", Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmishka/pseuds/missmishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's it like?" Isaac asked.</p>
<p>There was really no way for Scott to explain what an asthma attack was like, so he had to show the other boy instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadowKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowKnight/gifts).



> Yes. Yes, I had to go there. This is my kink for these two and I cannot let it go. It is a theme that I cannot resist weaving into anything that I think or write in relation to Scott/Isaac, so, ShadowKnight, my dear, here it is. A bit of smut (really quite tame and mild, honestly )for my breathplay fixation. We'll credit you with the inspiration. ;)
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.

Near death experiences were, in a word borrowed from Erica Reyes, transformative.

Scott McCall was exhausted after his encounter with Mrs. Argent, but his night was far from over.  He somehow still had to get home and into his bed without disturbing his mother.

Isaac Lahey volunteered himself to assist in seeing Scott home and he was rather pleasantly surprised by the offer. 

There had actually been a moment tonight where Scott hadn’t thought about Allison Argent and that moment had occurred somewhere between Isaac’s smirk and his blinking blue eyes as they leant against that pillar at the rave.  The boy was bigger and a few months older than Scott, but he had somehow seemed young and vulnerable at the realization of Scott’s concern.  In that moment, all that Scott had thought about was how much he really was worried about Jackson hurting Isaac.

They walked back to Scott’s house despite Dr. Deaton’s offer of a ride home.  Scott deeply regretted rejecting that offer within a few blocks of the clinic when his abused lungs had begun to protest the idea of additional work.

Isaac had solved that by pushing his shoulder under Scott’s arm and all but dragging him the rest of the way.  A part of him had wanted to joke that the other boy should just pick him up and carry him, but for some reason neither of them had said a word since leaving the veterinarians and Scott hadn’t wanted to break that trend with a botched attempt at humor.  Plus the idea of being in Isaac’s arms hadn’t stricken him as funny so much as … interesting.

The other boy was warm and solid against him as they moved toward their destination; the smell of him musky with sweat from a long day.  The steady pace of his breathing as they moved was oddly comforting to Scott and he found himself clinging a bit tighter to Isaac’s shoulder than he maybe really needed to.

They arrived at his home and stood outside on the sidewalk for several minutes before exchanging a look and moving in tandem to mount the steps to the front door.  It was some absurdly late hour in the night/morning so the house was dark and quiet, but Scott still worried at waking his mom.

He pulled his arm from Isaac’s shoulder to dig the house key out of his pocket and he immediately felt the lack of contact with the other boy.  His side grew cold and missed the warmth of that lanky frame.

Scott inserted the key and opened the door as quietly as possible while Isaac shifted further away and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.  He looked cold and uncertain and Scott wanted to pull him back closer.

When he stepped over the threshold into his house, Isaac’s shoulders seemed to slump before he turned to go back down the steps.

“Where you going?” Scott whispered a little louder than he would have liked.

Isaac stopped at the question, though, which was what Scott had wanted. 

“I was seeing you home and you’re home, so,” Isaac pulled a hand from his pockets and threw Scott a wave, “later.”

“Dr. Deaton said I needed someone to see me to _bed_ ,” Scott pointed out for reasons unknown even to him.  “You volunteered and I am not sleeping on the front stoop, so..”

He opened the front door just a little wider; grabbing it when the hinges started to creak and jerked his head to invite Isaac in. 

Scott supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by the other boy’s reluctance to enter the house given how Scott had literally thrown him out of it the last time, but he found himself disliking the hesitation.  He wanted Isaac to want to be in his house; wanted Isaac to want to be with _him_ and that was just the craziest part of a night too crazy to think about at such a late hour.

The other boy stood awkwardly at the foot of the stairs while Scott shut and locked the door.  Scott moved past him with a deliberately accidental brush of his side against Isaac’s chest.  Warmth immediately spread through him at the contact and he wanted to touch again and more without any pretense between them.

Instead he lifted one foot after the other to move up the first few steps.  His fingers were curled around the banister by the third step and his lungs are wheezing by the fourth.  He paused for a moment to catch his breath and count the remaining steps to the second floor; cursed when he found nine more steps awaiting him like an insurmountable cliff. 

Then Isaac put his hand in the small of Scott’s back and moved up to stand beside him on the stairs and Scott suddenly felt stronger.  Far from recovered, still, but closer to better than he had been.

The hand on his back urged him onward and Scott obeyed.

Isaac moved with him; offering support and assistance until they reached the landing.  Once there, Scott paused to double over for a moment to draw in a few steadying breaths until Isaac calmed him by simply putting a hand to his chest.  The feel of those long fingers splayed out over his shirt made Scott want them spread over his bare skin and the sight of that pale hand upon him made Scott want to hold it; keep it pressed to him.

No sooner had he thought that than Scott did it, reaching up to wrap his hand around Isaac’s wrist to marvel at the contrast in their skin tones.  He slid his fingers to the back of Isaac’s hand and pressed it harder against his chest for just a moment before taking another breath and moving on.

The shuffled the short distance to Scott’s room; took great care not to make any noise and both listened carefully for any sign of his mom being awake. 

They heard nothing outside of their own breathing as they stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. 

Scott moved to his bed and collapsed upon it while he dragged the shirt off his back with familiar ease.  He had his shoes toed off and dropped to the rug at the foot of his bed almost before his body settled against the mattress. 

For several minutes he just laid there; eyes closed to the world with his hand pressed to his chest as he listened to himself breathe. 

It would have worked; the plan Allison’s mother had had to make it look like an accident.  It had all been like every asthma attack Scott had ever had; the Wolfsbane turning air to water in his lungs making it feel like he were drowning for a single breath.  The clutch at his throat as panic threatened with the realization that he couldn’t breathe.  He had felt his lips and fingertips turning blue as oxygen enriched blood began to slow in flowing through his veins.

“What’s it like?”

The question was quiet and tentative; two things that Scott would have never thought to associate with Isaac Lahey after the boy’s recent changes. 

Scott opened his eyes slowly and blinked up at the ceiling to orient himself before he sat up.

“What’s what like?” he asked despite knowing the answer.

“The asthma,” Isaac moved slowly into the room until he had little option but to go ahead and sit on the bed beside Scott.

Scott moved over to make room for the other boy in clear invitation for him to be seated.

“I watched you, at the clinic,” Isaac looked straight ahead as he sat down and made his confession.  “It looked…scary.  When I saw you fighting for air I just wanted…,” he trailed off and Scott held his breath in wait of knowing what the boy wanted.  “I needed to help, but didn’t know how.”

There was enough truth in that conclusion for it to sound likely, but there was a hollowness to it that told Scott there had been more to what the other boy had wanted.

“It is scary,” Scott decided not to push the issue and focused on the words that had been spoken.  “I’ve had asthma since I was five and every time, every attack, I’ve thought I would die.  During the worst attacks, before I was diagnosed and after, when I couldn’t get to my inhaler fast enough, I’d have these flashes of my whole life.  These thoughts of things that I’d done or said and wished I could do again or say differently.  I’d make wishes for the life I always thought I would have, promise myself that I’d learn Spanish or do something exciting like bungee jumping if I could just draw one more breath.  Then suddenly I’d be able to breathe again and I wasn’t dying and that?”

He shook his head with a faint grin and turned to find Isaac staring at him with an intent focus that hit Scott like a kick to the gut.

“There’s no rush more intense than that,” he exhaled the words as he began to lean toward the other boy. 

He didn’t know where the urge came from, but it was suddenly a compulsion that he could not ignore. 

Isaac went still as a statue at the first press of Scott’s mouth to his, but Scott wasn’t deterred.  He slid his hand over the thrusting angles of the other boy’s jaw and rubbed with hi s thumb until the tense clench of teeth slackened enough for Scott to work his tongue in to Isaac’s mouth. 

The other boy wasn’t breathing; no warm moist puff of air from his nose to waft over Scott’s cheek, no rise and fall to move oxygen from the chest that he leant against.

Something about that lack of breath seemed unbearably erotic and Scott found himself moving to straddle the other boy and press him back against the bed.

He pulled his head away once Isaac settled beneath him on the mattress and found the boy staring up at him with big, weary blue eyes; wounded eyes that had seen so much pain.

“Breathe,” he whispered the instruction while fanning his fingers over the wrinkles in Isaac’s forehead as the boy tried to sort out what was happening in his own head.

Isaac seemed to obey the command without thought, just suddenly exhaling the breath he had been holding than gasping in fresh air like he never would have thought to take such action without Scott telling him to. 

“When it happens,” Scott shifted wedge his knees against Isaac’s armpits so he could kneel over the other boy’s chest.  “It’s like this weight on your chest.  This force pressing against you that you can’t escape or fight.”

He waited until Isaac took a deep breath before he sat with his full weight on the boy’s chest to apply pressure to deflate those just filled lungs.  The breath rushed right back out of Isaac’s mouth with a faintly surprised grunt as Scott’s move jarred him on the bed.

“When you can’t breathe, your whole body starts to fight for air,” Scott put his hand against Isaac’s throat and felt that prominent Adam’s Apple bob as the boy swallowed.  “You’ll start to twist and writhe and claw and scratch,” Scott admired the tanned curl of his fingers around Isaac’s pale, slender neck.  “Everything in you fights for oxygen, it’s what we need most to survive.  You can go without water for a few days and without food for days after that, but air?  You’re feeling it already; that panic for breath?”

His fingers clenched into the arching column of Isaac’s throat as he dug his knees into the mattress to ride out the sudden buck of the body beneath him.

“Just seconds without air can be frightening; minutes without it can do irreparable damage to the body if it doesn’t kill you.”

The moonlight that came through the window could account for the bluish tint to Isaac’s face, but only cyanosis could explain the sudden turn of the boy’s lush pink lips to a darkening blue.

Scott shifted his knees to scoot backward some and ease off the pressure on Isaac’s chest.

“Are you seeing  those flashes yet?  Thinking of what you’ll do if you get to breathe again?” he leant down to whisper the words over Isaac’s mouth; deliberately expelled extra air with each word to tease the other boy’s senses.

Isaac’s eyes looked up into his own without the fear Scott would have expected, but the boy nodded with a quickness that spoke of desperation and Scott eased his grip on Isaac’s throat. 

The other boy just laid there and stared up at him and Scott felt a lurch in his gut that he could no longer deny as anything other than arousal. 

“Breathe,” he ordered with a puff of air against Isaac’s lips while he shifted to press himself against the other boy’s groin.

Isaac’s whole body jolted beneath him at the order and Scott had to grab on to his shoulders to keep from being thrown off when Isaac finally drew air into his deprived lungs.  The flex and gasp of that mouth was oddly beautiful as the boy sucked in oxygen.  His hands clawed at the bedding as his torso arched under the deep inhalations and Scott watched it all thinking how this boy would look wracked with the spasms of an orgasm.

The French called climax the little death and Scott felt that he died a little each time he had an asthma attack, so somehow the two things suddenly became linked in his mind.  Sex and not breathing then breathing and coming from the sheer relief of being alive.

“Why?” Isaac panted; struggled for more words and breath to speak them with.  “Why did you do that?”

There was only a faint sting of accusation in the question so Scott almost shrugged it off completely.

“You wanted to know what it was like,” he gave a little twist to his lips that could be taken as apology or jest.

He tensed as Isaac’s hand suddenly lifted from the blankets; braced for a blow and didn’t immediately know what to do when the boy put his fingers to Scott’s throat.

“Do it again.”

The words were an order.  The tentative stroke of his hand against Scott’s neck and the expression in Isaac’s blue eyes were a plea.

Scott felt himself moved by both.

He began again from the kiss; swooped down to force his mouth harder against Isaac’s and felt the boy clench beneath him for a moment before his body relaxed into the kiss.  The mouth beneath his opened without force and Scott found himself hungry for a deeper taste. 

He put his hand to Isaac’s throat again and pressed firmly against the boy’s windpipe with his thumb and index finger.  A gasp sounded from Isaac at the pressure and his mouth gaped open at the sudden need to breathe, but Scott denied him oxygen and gave him his tongue instead.  He dove into the opening to lick and explore to his heart’s content and then longer until his own lungs felt the burn for breath.

He pulled back to draw in air and eased his grip on Isaac’s neck to allow the boy the same privilege, but once again Isaac simply stared; unmoving in wait for the order.

Scott felt a rush of pure fire race through him at the heady realization that Isaac would only breathe when _he_ told him to.  His hands went to the button at the waist of his jeans and he flicked it open while he moved to stand beside the bed long enough to strip.

“Breathe,” he ordered as he bent to grab the hem of Isaac’s shirt to yank the garment off.

He attacked the boy’s shoes next as Isaac gulped in air.

Scott focused on getting them both naked while Isaac celebrated the taste and feel of life; watching him breathe was so painfully sexy that Scott had to stop the boy from doing it or else he would have come right then and there. 

He clamped his right palm over Isaac’s gaping mouth and pinched the boy’s nostrils shut with his thumb and forefinger then held tight as he pushed Isaac to lie down flat on the bed.  With his left hand he fumbled to unfasten the other boy’s jeans, but it proved too much to accomplish while trying to suffocate and restrain the other werewolf.  Isaac’s claws were out and dug into Scott’s wrist, but he made no real attempt to free himself from the hand clamped over his airways.

Scott sucked in air for both of them as he climbed back on the bed then back on to Isaac’s prone body.  The denim was coarse and abrasive against his flesh and he immediately scooted away from that, but the soft, warm feel of Isaac’s stomach against Scott’s dick was enough to make his lose his grip on the other boy’s mouth.  He put his left hand on Isaac’s hip, sliding beneath the loose waistband of the boy’s jeans while his right hand dug into Isaac’s shoulder.

“Breathe,” he ordered harshly against the taut flesh of Isaac’s throat.

He bit at the boy’s neck as it flexed and convulsed to draw in then expel air.  He felt a noise like a whine escape him as he ground harder against Isaac’s stomach and the noise became a whimper when he felt the blow of warm, moist breath against his shoulder before Isaac’s hand gripped his neck to pull Scott in for another kiss.

They panted in tandem as their mouths pressed and tongues thrashed together.  It was Isaac’s turn to whimper when Scott keep moving away from contact with the jeans the other boy still wore which left Isaac humping air while Scott rutted his dick over Isaac’s soft belly and up over the hard ridges of ribs beneath the thin skin of the other boy’s chest.

Isaac solved that with a savage twist that unbalanced Scott and sent him toppling to the bed while Isaac reared up to shove away the last of his clothing.  Scott reacted to what he felt to be a rather dirty maneuver by pressing himself against Isaac’s back and wrapping his arm around the other boy’s neck while Isaac kicked the bunched up denim from his legs.

Scott gripped his wrist with his free hand and used it to tighten the chokehold he had on Isaac and the other boy simply raise his own hands to hold on to Scott’s arm as the pressure cut off his air supply once more.  The trust in the gesture and the power in his position made Scott bite back a curse as he nipped at Isaac’s ear; his cock left a trail of precum wherever it went and he made sure it went all over the smooth valley of Isaac’s spine from the dip of his pelvis to as high up as Scott could grind without easing the hold he had on the other boy’s neck.

He looked down over Isaac’s shoulder to get his first glimpse of the other boy fully naked; something he hadn’t seen before in the locker room as Isaac somehow always avoided showering with the guys after practice or games.  The other boy’s dick was a hard, rigid line that thrust up from a thatch of dark hairs to curl toward Isaac’s belly button.  It was longer than Scott’s, as everything about Isaac topped him in length, but it was slender and Scott knew that girth mattered a great deal when it came to dicks.

Scott was girthy.

“Breathe,” he released Isaac neck to order as he looked around his room for ideas.

His condoms were gone; he knew that because he’d had to have ‘the talk’ with his mother after she had found the packets in his room.  He doubted either of them were ready to actually have sex anyway and settled his attention quite happily on the baby oil that he kept on hand for masturbating. 

He dove for it; closed his eyes against the delighted thrill he felt from the way Isaac turned after him as if to keep Scott from leaving the bed for any reason.  He unscrewed the lid and let it fall to the floor without caring where it went as he scrambled back on to the bed.  Isaac met him halfway; his fingers gripped and pulled to drag Scott back against him.

He squeezed the bottle between them, uncaring of the mess as oil squirted out over more than their bodies.  The slickness hit their chests, stomachs and groins as Scott tried to give the stream of liquid aim before he deemed the oil to be enough and he hurled the bottle aside.  They hands moved to play in the warming gel between them, spreading the slickness over each other’s skin and fumbling to take hold of one another’s cock’s. 

The curl of Isaac’s fingers around his dick choked the air off in Scott’s throat and he fell back on the bed as the other boy began to jack him; slow and hesitant at first then quickly confident and eager to push him to orgasm.  He wanted to do the same to Isaac; to get him off like this, but he suddenly found himself breathless under the onslaught as the other boy kissed him; bit at his jaw and ears, neck and shoulders.  He could only arch and shudder against the grind of Isaac’s chest against his own; the thrust and drag of Isaac’s dick against his hip; the slick slide of Isaac’s hand on his chest along with the one moving so urgently to bring Scott off. 

Seconds raced by where Scott couldn’t think to do anything but twist and writhe in Isaac’s grasp and he felt the burning need within him, but the need to come was just as desperate as the need to breathe.

Isaac settled it for him before it could become a dilemma for Scott.

“Breathe,” the boy ordered against the lip that Scott was biting to stifle an urge to cry out.

The sound of that single word combined with the warm caress of expelled breath over his cheek and Scott’s world exploded. 

Dimly he was aware of Isaac’s hard stroking him through the convulsions then pulling away to wrap around his own erection and the idea of Isaac jerking himself off with a hand covered in Scott’s jizz was enough to make him feel like coming again.

He didn't, though, because there was nothing left in him after a release like that and the night that he had had, but after he came to in the morning he could definitely he himself getting off like that again with Isaac.

First, he really needed to just do the guy thing and fall asleep and as soon as Scott thought it, he did it; closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with a fleeting knowledge that Isaac has begun to clean him up with his tongue.


End file.
